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Saturday, July 13, 2013

Right now, there are no words…

a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
Ecclesiastes 3:4 (ESV)


I have known the story of the Four Little Girls my entire life but it didn’t reduce me to weeping until I walked through the sanctuary of Sixteenth Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, AL with my husband, our daughter and our son. That could have been our church. Those could have been our girls. I didn’t fully understand it until I birthed black babies in America. 

I didn’t expect a guilty verdict in the Zimmerman trial though I was weaned on justice. The prosecution failed to meet its burden; I fully understand the law, but I hoped nonetheless. Salty tears fell bitterly on my lap as I heard the verdict read. His sister gasped at my side; dad silent, I considered the sleeping man/boy upstairs in his bed; safe; secure; entitled; abundantly covered in Grace; so deeply and so desperately loved. Sometimes mothering takes my breath away.

It is said that love, endless and relentless, redeems all wrong.  Just how much time does that take?  All we can do in tribute to the memory of a fallen prince (all God’s children belong to the royal priesthood) is pledge our voices through tears to the cause of Justice; offer prayers for all who weep; and assert that though there is a time to mourn, a time to dance will come. 


May God cover us copiously in patience and peace.


video-Jill Scott singing My Petition from the album Beautifully Human
I am spending the Sabbath in Reflection with  Deidra and The Sunday Community

OneWord 2015

OneWord 2015

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